Dear Diary 6
February 7th 2009 22:18
Dear Diary,
I am simply exhausted. Each day we work so hard to bring our people something more than what they have, to help them in any way we can. And each day we fall just short of truly helping them, and they know this. They know, and they are not happy with us. But they cannot openly revolt, for we are already at war. There is nothing that we can do to truly help them so long as our people must fight.
I wish this had never happened. That the Alliance had never been forged. Though perhaps those were good times, they are what has led us into the darkness. I can never forget those days, the days of happiness before the misery that we feel now. And yet it seems as though they are an eternity away; the light and happiness slips from our grasp like the sands of time.
I wonder how much the Fatalis Intarnati have influenced this war. I should slit their throats for the part they have likely played, but that is not my place. If they had truly been judgmental Those Who Are would have dealt with them harshly. I wonder why we fear them so; it is senseless to feel such fear for Those Who Are. They are simply there. There is nothing to fear.
But at the same time they are terrifying. They take all the warmth out of every room they step into; their voices slip into your mind and steal your secrets. When they leave the chill doesn't, and nothing warms you, God or human. We all feel the icy hand of Those Who Are.
They have not come for me, and this convinces me that I am safe from the punishment I feel should have been delivered. Though Dracon introduced us, it is we who married. It is in the end my mistake which led to this war, and no one can deny that, no matter how hard we try. And we do try; I have tried. I have tried many times, and failed on most occasions.
I remember everything about it. I wonder when the first signs showed, when I should have really realized. Were there signs that I missed? Sometimes I will remember a moment, something he said, something he did, and I think of it as a sign that I missed. But perhaps they were not signs. Maybe now that I know the truth I am reading into the past too much. Being too hard on myself.
I don't know how much of what I see in the past is being too hard on myself and how much of it is real. I know that Rasie searches her soul each day and night to find why she couldn't have known of his treachery sooner. I know she takes it to heart, and that it hurts her. It hurts all of us, but it is I who was the closest. It is I who had the most opportunity to glimpse the truth.
But I did not see the truth until the time came when he showed his true colours in all their hideousness. When it became obvious to all of us that we had a traitor in our midst. I couldn't see before that, I was blinded by foolishness and perhaps love.
Love; it makes fools of us all, or so they say. I know it has made a fool of me, very clearly here, publically. To the world. All the world can see my mistakes laid bare as they suffer for me. I should be among them, suffering like they are. And yet it is because I am above them that my mistakes had such a wide impact upon the world.
My mistakes are now there in the open for all to criticize, and I know that each day their hatred of me grows. I can feel those who are surrounded by death beginning to hate me. I can hear their desperate tears as they beg me to stop. But these are not my actions. I cannot stop the death, I wish I could, but I cannot tell that to the people either. They would not believe me.
It is a shame, that they will not believe me. But in their position I think I would do much the same as they have done. I would turn my back on the one who seemed to have betrayed me, when it came to it and I suffered from famine, lost loved ones to the war.
I remember the moment that condemned us to this. I remember the moment I first met him; the day of our wedding is still crystal clear in my mind. I could say how many people were there, how much food there was, what type of food there was. I could tell you what every single person who attended my wedding war-and that is thousands of people-in minutest detail.
I could remember with remarkable clarity the day the Great Alliance was made real, instead of the dream it had always been. I could tell the tales of all the moments I spent with him, though now they have taken on a bitter tint in my eyes. I find myself cold, bitter towards these old memories; these cold memories.
I could tell you the first time we kissed; the first time we made love is burned forever into my memory. And I could tell you the shock it was to me when we fought that day, the day the war truly started. The shock that came to me with the words he said, the violence he used. I can remember all of that very clearly.
Some things are just unforgettable; and Death never truly forgets.
~Astarael
I am simply exhausted. Each day we work so hard to bring our people something more than what they have, to help them in any way we can. And each day we fall just short of truly helping them, and they know this. They know, and they are not happy with us. But they cannot openly revolt, for we are already at war. There is nothing that we can do to truly help them so long as our people must fight.
I wish this had never happened. That the Alliance had never been forged. Though perhaps those were good times, they are what has led us into the darkness. I can never forget those days, the days of happiness before the misery that we feel now. And yet it seems as though they are an eternity away; the light and happiness slips from our grasp like the sands of time.
I wonder how much the Fatalis Intarnati have influenced this war. I should slit their throats for the part they have likely played, but that is not my place. If they had truly been judgmental Those Who Are would have dealt with them harshly. I wonder why we fear them so; it is senseless to feel such fear for Those Who Are. They are simply there. There is nothing to fear.
But at the same time they are terrifying. They take all the warmth out of every room they step into; their voices slip into your mind and steal your secrets. When they leave the chill doesn't, and nothing warms you, God or human. We all feel the icy hand of Those Who Are.
They have not come for me, and this convinces me that I am safe from the punishment I feel should have been delivered. Though Dracon introduced us, it is we who married. It is in the end my mistake which led to this war, and no one can deny that, no matter how hard we try. And we do try; I have tried. I have tried many times, and failed on most occasions.
I remember everything about it. I wonder when the first signs showed, when I should have really realized. Were there signs that I missed? Sometimes I will remember a moment, something he said, something he did, and I think of it as a sign that I missed. But perhaps they were not signs. Maybe now that I know the truth I am reading into the past too much. Being too hard on myself.
I don't know how much of what I see in the past is being too hard on myself and how much of it is real. I know that Rasie searches her soul each day and night to find why she couldn't have known of his treachery sooner. I know she takes it to heart, and that it hurts her. It hurts all of us, but it is I who was the closest. It is I who had the most opportunity to glimpse the truth.
But I did not see the truth until the time came when he showed his true colours in all their hideousness. When it became obvious to all of us that we had a traitor in our midst. I couldn't see before that, I was blinded by foolishness and perhaps love.
Love; it makes fools of us all, or so they say. I know it has made a fool of me, very clearly here, publically. To the world. All the world can see my mistakes laid bare as they suffer for me. I should be among them, suffering like they are. And yet it is because I am above them that my mistakes had such a wide impact upon the world.
My mistakes are now there in the open for all to criticize, and I know that each day their hatred of me grows. I can feel those who are surrounded by death beginning to hate me. I can hear their desperate tears as they beg me to stop. But these are not my actions. I cannot stop the death, I wish I could, but I cannot tell that to the people either. They would not believe me.
It is a shame, that they will not believe me. But in their position I think I would do much the same as they have done. I would turn my back on the one who seemed to have betrayed me, when it came to it and I suffered from famine, lost loved ones to the war.
I remember the moment that condemned us to this. I remember the moment I first met him; the day of our wedding is still crystal clear in my mind. I could say how many people were there, how much food there was, what type of food there was. I could tell you what every single person who attended my wedding war-and that is thousands of people-in minutest detail.
I could remember with remarkable clarity the day the Great Alliance was made real, instead of the dream it had always been. I could tell the tales of all the moments I spent with him, though now they have taken on a bitter tint in my eyes. I find myself cold, bitter towards these old memories; these cold memories.
I could tell you the first time we kissed; the first time we made love is burned forever into my memory. And I could tell you the shock it was to me when we fought that day, the day the war truly started. The shock that came to me with the words he said, the violence he used. I can remember all of that very clearly.
Some things are just unforgettable; and Death never truly forgets.
~Astarael
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